No use crying over spilled Strawberry Milk
by Flight-of-Fantasies
Summary: This is for the lovely Voluptuous whose Strawberry Milk left me wanting more…


**No use crying over spilled Strawberry Milk**

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**A.N. ** So Grimmjow and Ichigo belong to Kubo, of course, but the rest is owed to Voluptuous whose Strawberry Milk left me wanting more…

Go check it out_** before**_ reading this! s/9594484/1/Strawberry-Milk

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As I stood there catching my breath in the cold, empty, strawberry scented apartment I felt tears begin to prick unwantedly at the corners of my eyes.

What the hell?

This one man had turned my whole peaceful existence around in the blink of an eye, and I found myself unwilling to go back to how I was before.

The image of him standing in that glowing pool of pink creamy liquid that now stood forlornly forgotten in the moonlight can unbidden to my mind, and instead of the initial shock resurfacing I found myself remembering every, and I mean _every_, detail of that perfectly sinful body.

I sighed at my own stupidity once again as that evil side of me that had prompted my tirade was now supplying me with naughty pictures and thoughts. I couldn't help but blush as it reminded me he had bought ping pong balls…and what he might have been planning to do with them.

I shook my head – damn fickle demon inside my brain.

I took one last look around the apartment, knowing that I would never set foot it in again, and turned and traipsed out into the hall, eyes fixed on my feet.

I followed the slowly browning trail of liquid back down the stairs, lost in my thoughts. I always shot myself down just as something exciting was going to happen. I remembered all the times my friends had attempted to me to do something, anything, crazy with them, and I was always the voice of reason.

Damn it.

As I cursed my own ineptitude and wallowed in guilt over the rather nasty things I had said to someone really didn't know, I found myself sliding on the wet surface – probably still pink milk – and down the rest of the stairs on my ass.

Well, that was stupid.

Ah.

Blue. Blue eyes suddenly peering down at me. Blue hair sticking up all over the place. A pair of brown flip-flops on his feet.

I stared up helplessly at the object of my thoughts as he stared just as helplessly back down at me.

I couldn't help but remember the first time I saw him with that pink moustache in the store, that split-second of vulnerability on his face when I laughed.

It was matching his exact look right now. That confident carefree man that smelt like the sea and freedom sighed and ran a hand through his hair, grimacing slightly as it came away sticky.

Then he made to move around me from the place where I was sitting like an idiot on the floor, and I did something that no-one in their right mind would do.

I tackled his legs as he walked and he came tumbling down on top of me.

Did I mention I'm not in my right mind? Well make that totally insane.

As he landed with a muffled yelp of surprise, half sprawled on his butt on the stairs, I made the most of his confusion to lean over our tangled limbs and drag him into a sloppy kiss.

My left hand tangled into his tacky locks, and I felt as though I was grasping at fluffy cotton candy. I didn't dislike it.

His lips tasted slightly salty which was unexpected as I thought they would taste like strawberries.

He sat stock still for a moment, his eyes wider than saucers, and my voice of reason slowly reasserted itself.

Oh shit, it said.

I scrambled to feet and attempted to scarper back into my apartment which I had left open in my haste. Knowing my luck someone had probably tried to burgle me. Would serve me right I suppose.

But my attempt to flee was impeded by a strong grip around my ankle and I fell to my knees with a thud.

Now I have carpet burn to add to my growing list of grievances.

"Where do you think you're going?" that sinful voice growled from behind me.

I quickly glanced over my shoulder only to see that his blue eyes were narrowed and his pointy snarl was back.

Oh fuck, the voice of reason made its presence known once again. But I swallowed and dragged up what was left of my pride after fleeing from this man and hiding from him under my kitchen table.

"Look," I said with as much dignity as I could muster considering I was on all fours with a hand around my ankle in a vice-like grip. My left foot was beginning to go numb. "I just wanted to apologise. You may be an arrogant asshole who needed taking down a notch,"

The growl was getting louder as I twisted round onto my back to look him in the eyes.

"_But_, I was out of line saying those things. So, sorry."

I lay back on my elbows and debated kicking my way free. It didn't seem like the best idea in the world though.

Suddenly that grip was gone and he was looming over me in all his Hawaiian-shirt, orange-swim-shorted, bare-chested glory.

I got to my feet and looked him straight in the eye, ignoring the blood rushing to my cheeks.

For once in my life I was going to take a chance, and damn that little voice that was telling me to run away as fast as I could. Ichigo Kurosaki does not just run from his problems. Even if it happened to be a cotton-candy-haired Adonis that had a fetish for pink milk.

He smirked at me a little sheepishly and my heart did a weird flutter.

"I put some shoes on," he muttered, kicking a foot up as if he expected me to inspect it.

That one little phrase broke all of my rules and made me forget he was an egotistical bastard who expected me to fall at his feet and I tilted my head upwards, a small smile on my face.

"I noticed," I breathed, my lips inches away from his.

A split-second later his mouth was slanted across mine, lips gently brushing against my own. It was nothing like the first stolen kiss, the second in the check-out line or the third I sloppily thrust upon him. Fourth-time lucky, it sent tingles up my spine and had my toes curling in my shoes. _This_ was how a kiss was supposed to be. I closed my eyes and enjoyed to the sensation.

"I'm sorry too," he murmured against my lips. I leaned back a little and opened my eyes to look at him.

"You're actually apologising?" I asked incredulously. It just seemed so…out of character for the milk-drinking-menace.

His smirk was back and I must admit it looked good on his perfect face.

"Yeah. I'm not used to people saying no. I'm not used to having to chase people either. I –"

I cut off whatever he was going to say next by pressing my lips against his again, this time more insistently. My hand trailed down his sticky body and I felt him shudder under my touch. His tongue tentatively traced my lips and I opened my mouth for him.

It was slow and languorous and oh so arousing. The taste of my pink milk from earlier and the saltiness of Grimmjow's lips melded into a euphoric flavour that I couldn't get enough of. I moaned as one of his hands stroked through my hair and came to rest at my nape, tilting my head ever so slightly to change the angle.

Suddenly he broke the kiss and sighed.

"I really wanna continue this but I gotta take a shower," his grin turned leery and then he shook his head.

I could only guess what was going through his mind. And to be honest, I didn't mind. After all, this was my leap of faith, and for a one-night stand Grimmjow was the perfect candidate.

I did not want to die a virgin.

Looking up at him through my eyelashes I let a smirk that could rival his own spread across my face.

"My apartment is right there…if you want to use it." Then I turned on my heel and walked in without a backward glance.

Two could play at his game.

I felt his presence behind me as I walked in to the warzone that was my apartment. The furniture I had used to block the door was strewn about, the saucepan lying on its side near the kitchen table.

"Fuck me what happened in here?" Grimmjow drawled from behind me.

"You did." I admitted.

He grabbed me from behind and ran his hands up my sides then back down again.

"I had no idea it would have _this_ much of an effect on you," he oozed into my ear.

I would be lying if I said I didn't melt right there and then. I was surprised I hadn't turned into a puddle of want on the floor. That voice, those words, brought the sight of him earlier rushing back, and before I knew it I was dragging him into the bathroom, tearing his open shirt off and attacking his mouth.

Yup, the demon was back in charge.

His hands were on me again and I couldn't help but shudder into that calloused touch. I briefly wondered what he did to earn those rough palms as he slid his left hand under my chin and deepened what was becoming another searing kiss. I had never been kissed like that before and he totally dominated my mouth. I didn't mind it in the slightest though and moaned against him, hands fumbling to undo the knot at the front of his swimming trunks.

He bit my bottom lip as I gave them a sharp tug downwards. The force brought his bare ass down hard onto the edge of my bathtub and I fell to my knees in front of him.

There it was in all of its hard, throbbing glory and suddenly my virgin nerves were back again.

Swallowing I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He was panting in anticipation, his sky eyes lidded and sultry, his ferocious mouth parted showing a little bit of pink tongue. He was as utterly gorgeous as in my fantasies and as he curled his long fingers into my hair, teasing slightly, I felt my dick twitch.

I wanted this.

I wanted it, so badly.

I gave his erection a lick and marvelled at how hot and soft it felt. He hissed slightly as I stopped and wondered what to do next.

"Ichigo, you're killin' me," he grunted, and his grip tightened in my hair again.

The way my name purred off his lips made me want to make him say it, moan it, scream it again.

I gave another slow lick, this time twisting my tongue around as if it were an ice-cream. As I reached the head I licked the slit and tasted his musky pre-come. Again with the saltiness, nothing tasted remotely sweet, just all male. I liked it. I took him into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks as I slowly sucked. I had no idea what I was doing but the demon side had some pretty kickass sexual instincts. Halfway down, I slowly pulled back up, dragging my tongue across the underside, feeling a vein pulsating lightly beneath me as I swept upwards. I briefly released him with a pop before wetting my lips and his hands pushed me down onto him again.

I continued with the torturous pace, slowly up and down, using my hand for what couldn't fit in my mouth. Good God he was huge. Spit gathered, warm and sticky and erotic as hell as I leisurely repeated the motion. I couldn't get enough: he was hot and hard and the way his hips would buck to meet my mouth made me feel proud to know he needed me.

A light moan escaped his lips and I felt tingles down my spine. To reduce someone as, dare I say it, _cocky _as Grimmjow to this wanton mess was breath-taking.

Suddenly a rough hand dragged me upwards and before I could even wipe my mouth my jeans were in a heap around my ankles, boxers somewhere at my knees and a hand was wrapped around my rigid erection.

He pulled me closer and I somehow fit between his knees as he grasped us both in one hand, tugging up. I gasped in pleasure as his hot arousal dragged against mine. It was nothing like I had ever felt before, and just when I thought it couldn't get better his lips found my once more.

Clashing in a needy kiss, I seized rugged breaths when I could. I could feel the pleasure building to a crescendo as his coarse thumb dragged at that place just below the head that sent bliss knifing through my body like quicksilver.

Judging from his panting, he was close as well. The pace picked up and I opened my eyes for a split second. The image of Grimmjow, head thrown back over my bath, eyes closed and a soft tongue just poking out sent me over the edge.

With a barely suppressed cry of gratification I came, the orgasm making my knees tremble as I grasped his forearms in a death grip. I barely heard his grunt of satisfaction through the heady cloud of contentment that was fogging up my entire being.

When I finally found my bearings, I way leaning heavily against his chest, and he was only just supporting our weight with one hand braced against the tiled wall behind the bath.

He grinned sloppily at me and I untangled myself messily and I couldn't help but blush.

That was fucking amazing.

"That was fucking amazing," I said stupidly.

All he did was smirk wider before tumbling into the shower, dragging me in with him.

"Definitely need that shower now," he mumbled into my hair as he held me close.

"Yeah," I replied softly, turning the taps on, only realising I was still wearing my t-shirt when the water hit us.

He laughed at me as I discarded the offense item of clothing violently. It hit the bathroom floor with a slick thud.

I couldn't help but think it would be nice to hear his laugh every day for the rest of my life.

Then I remembered that he was an egotistical bastard who thought he had everything. The thought put a damper on my mood even as he held me under the streaming water. Tears of frustration prickled at my eyes and I fought against them with all my willpower. I would _not_ cry in front of him.

I didn't realise until the third time he said it that Grimmjow was talking to me.

"What's up with you? Didn't you enjoy that?" he eyed me curiously as he rubbed my vanilla-scented shampoo into his blue locks. Dampened by water they were almost navy in colour.

"I did." I said honestly, "Just…"

"Look I know I kind of put you off earlier. What I was saying was: how about we go out for dinner after this shower? Start over."

I stared at him, water dripping off my nose like an idiot. He, Grimmjow, wanted to start over.

I debated it. I still didn't know the guy, but he didn't seem as much as an asshole as I first thought. Well, maybe he was an asshole, but he was my kind of asshole.

"Sure," I agreed, a smile breaking over my face.

"This time, no pink milk, nothing strawberry related, I swear." He paused, before adding, "except one thing that is," accompanied by a wink.

A new start. That sounded good.

And after all, I thought, washing my own hair as his arms wrapped around my waist as though they belonged there.

There was no use in crying over spilled milk. You just poured another glass, and enjoyed that one instead.


End file.
